


Doing It In Style!

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, teenage detectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles jumps to his feet, pulling his glasses off so hard that he nearly hits himself in the eye with one of the arms. “What the hell are you wearing?!” He waves his hands at the girl before pointing to himself. “I thought we agreed that we’re gonna dress like this?”</p><p>Lydia doesn’t deign to lower her sunglasses but Stiles can just tell she’s giving him her best judgement stare. “Like a bad extra from a B grade detective film? Pass.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing It In Style!

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed. I will focus on Stiles and Lydia being friends and nothing else or else I won’t stop crying! I just want them being besties. For Cor <3 
> 
> Warnings: S03E04 spoilers

Feeling very like Marty McFly in Back to the Future 2, Stiles ducks behind a parked car and pulls his cellphone out. As he pulls up Lydia’s number, he wonders if he can get away with making a reference to the movie but thinks the better of it.  
  


Phone pressed to his ear, Stiles listens to the dial tone and stares down room 14’s door. Lydia picks the call with a crisp, “Hello?”  
  


"I’m already here." Here being Beacon Hill’s cheapest and most ill reputed motel, known to all as ‘Sebastian’s Motel’. According to his sources (read: cozying up to Marleen at the station and Deaton post-hocus-pocus-ing some spell to track down magic to its source or something), there was a high possibility that the guy staying in room 14 was their darach.  
  


But a high possibility wasn’t 100% certainty so. “I’m almost there.” Lydia replies. Stiles can hear the sharp click of her heels on the pavement and wonders why. Why would she decide to wear heels when they’re going to shadow the guy if and when he comes out of his room. After plying Marleen with some of her favorite treats from the local bakery, she had helped him by asking the owner about the man’s schedule.   
  


There hadn’t been much to tell, much to Stiles’ chagrin but at the very least, they knew that the man tended to leave around noon and return some time in the late evening. _‘Wonder what he does in all that time.’_  Stiles wonders, still ducking behind the red car.  
  


It’s less than a minute later that he hears the unmistakeable sound of sharp heels hitting the concrete pavement in a staccato beat. Stiles ducks his head slightly before turning to watch Lydia walk up to him. And what he sees makes him push his oversized fedora up so that he can tip his dark sunglasses down to stare.  
  


He’s still crouched on the ground, staring like an idiot when the red head come to halt in front of him. She’s got one hand cocked on her hip, a thin eyebrow raised high. “What?”  
  


Stiles jumps to his feet, pulling his glasses off so hard that he nearly hits himself in the eye with one of the arms. “What the hell are you wearing?!” He waves his hands at the girl before pointing to himself. “I thought we agreed that we’re gonna dress like this?”  
  


Lydia doesn’t deign to lower her sunglasses but Stiles can just  _tell_  she’s giving him her best judgement stare. “Like a bad extra from a B grade detective film? Pass.”  
  


Oye! Stiles frowns, looking down at himself before mumbling, “I do  _not_ look like that! This is a  _classic_ look.” Hell, ask anyone what to wear when you gotta shadow anyone and they’d say the same thing! Trenchcoat with the collar popped up, dark sunglasses and a fedora. It’s the way things are.  
  


“ _Please_.” Lydia takes her sunglasses off so that her eye roll can have its full effect. “You look like a hobo.”  
  


"And you look like you just stepped off a fashion shoot!" Stiles shoots back, knowing that its not much of an insult. Lydia brushes her hand down her [gray trenchcoat](http://i01.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/467183237_1/Free-shipping-new-fashion-outerwear-women-trench-coat-overcoat-long-windbreaker-womens-slim-coat-elegant-outerwear.jpg), wiping away an imaginary crease before she adjusts the silky purple scarf knotted around her neck. “And why the  _purple_? We might as well be walking around with a giant sign that says ‘We’re not suspicious people at all!’”  
  


He’s pretty sure that if looks could kill, he’d be dust on the floor. Instead, Lydia turns her attention to the motel room. “If I’m going to be done something as silly as shadowing someone, I’m going to do it in style.”  
  


Stiles eyes the thin, three inch heels on her dark boots and mumbles, “And in heels too.” He slips his sunglasses back on, tugs the fedora back into place before pointing a finger at the girl. “I’m not giving you a piggyback ride if your feet start to hurt.”  
  


The unimpressed look she gives him makes something inside him curl into a ball and cry. In a blink, she’s smiling so sweetly at him that Stiles actually wonders if she’s going to make him cry with the next comment. “I once dragged Derek’s unconscious body all the way across town in heels taller than these and  _still_ didn’t ask for a piggyback ride home.”  
  


His mouth drops open slowly, brain struggling to create a mental image to go along with her words. Job done, Lydia’s smile turns smug and her attention goes back to the door. Stiles stares at her, feeling completely awed by her before finally noticing [her hat](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51ElEtpYxNL.jpg). Her purple hat.  _Plaid_ purple hat.  
  


His fingers reach out to gently stroke the small gray and purple feathers pinned to the white band. “How come it’s okay for  _you_ to wear a plaid hat but I sholdn’t wear plaid shirts?”  
  


Lydia’s busy taking pictures with her phone, typing away something as she replies. “Because I don’t wear plaid every single day to the point that people start wondering if I’m a plaid demon.”  
  


"Hey!" Stiles yells, offended at the comment. Before he can defend himself and the design, the front door opens and they both duck down. They glance at each other before slowly rising up, peeking over the hood. "Guess that’s our guy." Stiles mumbles, wondering why the guy’s wearing a leather trenchcoat and why the supernatural seems to love the material so much.  
  


Lydia gives him a grim nod, stand tall before she drags him away. “My car’s parked around the corner, it’ll be easier to follow him.” Well that explains why she wasn’t about sore feet, Stiles thinks wryly to himself.  
  



End file.
